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<title>On the ledge</title>

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<img src="windowjump.png" /><p>Never having been much of a brave man, you feel some kind of strange regret as you're on your way to the ground. Fear overcomes you as certain death approaches at 9,8 meters per square second. You close your eyes and accept your fate.
<p>Expecting a mighty splash, you feel a tingly, surprisingly soft concussion. Luscious grass, acting as a pillowy mound sent from heaven, dampened your fall.
<p>Having survived your first near-death experience, you feel omnipotent. Nothing can stop you. You can do everything!
<p>With the greatest amount of self-confidence a pickle has ever attained, you begin the grasp the possibilities of your new-found freedom. No home, no work, no duties.
<p>You frolicly roll around hills and valleys, the wind in the your back and the sun in the sky. You start to notice that intense exposure to the heat of the sun is not the healthiest way for a pickle to spend the noon.
<p>Gradually, you feel the water in your body evaporating. As about 97 percent of your bodyweight are now part of the surrounding air, dehydration reduced you to a gummy, even wrinklier version of yourself.
<h1> THE END</h1>


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